


Even you aren't as bitter as dark chocolate

by EternityMaze



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Hot Chocolate, M/M, Mello wants Near to eat chocolate, Short One Shot, a bit shippy, and Near doesn't like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 14:12:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12985761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternityMaze/pseuds/EternityMaze
Summary: For all the difference it made, it might as well always be winter at Wammy's House. To Near, the shifting of the seasons brought little difference to his routines. e a mark, as the institution seemed to always stay at the exact same degree of pleasant warmth. Winter did however bring one change to his attention, and that was the ever-present scent of chocolate lingering at every corner. Why was Mello so intent on making him taste chocolate all of a sudden?





	Even you aren't as bitter as dark chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> Short fanfiction made for the 10th of Death Notecember over on my tumblr.  
> I hope you like it!

For all the difference it made, it might as well always be winter at Wammy's House. The newly formed presence of snowfall only served to accentuate the ivory walls of frozen stone that made up the many buildings of the secretive orphanage. Halls and corridors of clinical white, only dyed by the occasional glimmer of stained glass windows, and kept alive by the sounds of children's voices behind closed doors. If one were to follow the distant voices to where they seemed most concentrated, one would find oneself in the common room. Vast and large – housing all the things a young genius might need to relax once in a while, it was where the majority of the orphanage's young inhabitants would find themselves when the outside cold seemed to threatening to dare traverse. It was also where one was most likely to come upon a small boy dressed only in white, hunched over on the furthest end of the room – as far from prying eyes and playful company as possible, tinkering with an array of puzzles, toys, or impressive structures made of either. This was where – if one was so inclined as to search for him, one could find Near.

 

It was of no wonder to him that his peers might find it infuriating that the resident number one of the establishment was more likely to be found playing by himself in the common room than studying until his eyes bled in the library. It was no wonder to him either that the frustration of his peers would occasionally cause him grievous encounters in this very spot. No, Near understood, and that was likely even more aggravating than if he were indeed a senseless robot made only to comprehend complex figures and patterns. Yet, this was where he remained, snugly nested within his fortress of dice, caring not for the complaints about the supposed cold beyond the orphanage's walls or the distant whispers aimed supposedly at him. Here he remained, observing, deducing and thinking, his games the eternal backdrop of props to his boundlessly brilliant mind, his tools of contemplation and perception, and of endlessly calculated creation.

 

To Near, the shifting of the seasons brought little difference to his routines. Within these alabaster confines not even the falling temperatures seemed to leave a mark, as the institution seemed to always stay at the exact same degree of pleasant warmth. Winter did however bring one change to his attention, and that was the ever-present scent of chocolate lingering at every corner. More specifically, hot chocolate, the kind that was served up to the many ingenius children of the premise at – what seemed to him, every possible hour of the day. He was not among those who would take any chance given to receive one of these treats, in fact, he couldn't well remember having tasted the concoction at any point, as the scent alone was honestly very off-putting to him. Sweet and bitter simultaneously, reeking of something that would leave a foul taste in his mouth for hours after consuming it. No, hot chocolate was not exactly his cup of tea, but a nice cup of hot tea certainly was. When he did decide to eat, he much preferred his flavours to be subtle and in no way overwhelming. Perhaps 'bland' was a good way to describe his preferences in food, but he saw no reason for crucial sustenance to taste of anything more than necessary. Sweetness in particular was unpleasant to him. He detested the feeling of sugar sticking to his teeth like obscene little strands of fur, found the sluggish sensation left in his stomach afterwards to be disgusting, and most of all, he loathed the effect it seemed to have on his mind. It left him tired and lethargic, unable to see as clearly as he would like to, and as such he avoided sweetness to his utmost ability.

 

The looming scent of hot chocolate was however not so easily avoided if he wanted to keep building his fort of dice today. Every child in the common room seemed to have just retrieved their refill of the beverage, and were happily drinking away wherever they may go about their recreational business. Near could of course retreat to his own room, where there should be no trace of chocolate, unless some sweet carrying criminal had decided to break in and leave droppings of cadbury and tiny marshmallows all over his robot toy collection. That would force him away from his very important construction work though, and he could not have that. No, for now he would have to silently endure and swallow his distaste with a look of persistent nonchalance.

 

Between immaculate towers of dice there was a sudden shift from the undisturbed white backdrop, giving way to shifting folds of black fabric forcing itself into Near's immediate view. The invading scent of hot chocolate presented itself stronger than ever, leaving no doubt in his mind as to who had decided to impose on his voluntary solitude. He would know the attendance of his supposed rival from the sound of his bare footsteps alone – no, even without looking he would know he had entered the room, for his presence was as strong as that of fire and chaos, brilliant and dangerous in his unparalleled magnetism. He fascinated him to no end, and yet Near could not even bring himself to look up at him to make his attention known. Wordlessly, he continued to fiddle with his dice, ignoring the short moment of broken concentration and forcing himself to catch his trail of thought yet again so that he may find the correct spot within his fort for this one particular die. He knew the other was watching him, could feel his frustration grow with every moment he failed to acknowledge his proximity, but he remained silent. What reason would they have for conversation at this moment either way?

 

“Hey, sheepface, I know you've noticed me already.” His rival clearly did not share that notion, as he broke the silence to demand recognition. The die was placed, albeit a little askew, but Near did not look up. Eye contact was uncomfortable in itself, even more so when one took into consideration that he rarely managed to catch someone's direct line of sight given his less than optimal vision. It was not a well known fact that Near was indeed near-sighted, so in the past his inability to look someone directly in the eye had been mistaken for disinterest more than once.

“I have. Was there anything you wanted, Mello?” Near eventually said, adjusting the die he had previously placed just a little out of its intended spot so that it would not ruin the construction entirely. One weak link could crumble a castle in time after all. He could practically hear Mello seething at the lack of a proper reply, not that he would honestly know what he expected of him in a conversation scenario. Near was, after all, not the most talkative boy when it came to regular social interactions. He could be eloquent when faced with academics, could talk for a long time if given a topic of interest, but small talk? No, Near had zero ability to keep up mindless chatter.

 

“Don't give me that. Move over already.” Before any physical reaction could even be considered on Near's end, Mello had forced his way around and into the center of his dice fort, without knocking over a single die in the process. Some might find it surprising that Mello wouldn't intentionally ruin Near's creations, considering how outspoken he was of his hatred for the sheep headed boy, but Near was not among those people. Mello could be verbally vile at times, sure, but he was never intentionally cruel towards him. He knew to respect his puzzles and his creations, and would not overstep those specific boundaries. Near knew this, regardless of how absurd it might seem to those overseeing their strange relationship. Mello sat down with him, yet not too close, knowing well that Near did not appreciate physical contact. Why he would be considerate of that was anyone's guess, but he was so without failure. The proximity elevated the scent of hot chocolate to nauseating heights, as the older boy had of course brought his cup with him. What could he possibly hope to achieve by forcing Near to endure this?

 

His intentions were made clear a moment later, as an extra cup of hot chocolate was slid across the floor to sit in front of the pajama clad prodigy, waiting there as if begging him to drink it. Why had he brought him this? Presumably, Mello would take any chance he got to grab an extra cup of hot chocolate just for himself and not actually share the beverage with his hated rival. Near could do nothing but look at the steaming cup in confusion, prodding it with a finger as if inspecting it for foul play. Hot chocolate alone was foul play, so why even consider drinking it? Was it just because it was Mello bringing it to him?

“Stop poking it, just drink it. I saw you didn't get one, so there.” Mello huffed under his breath, bringing his own cup up to his lips to have a good swig of the chocolate drink. Near's attention had drawn from the cup in front of him to Mello, watching him from the corner of his eye through a cascade of white curls. He had brought a bar of dark chocolate along with him, occasionally breaking off a piece to drop it into the cup so that it would melt into the drink itself. It seemed typical of him to Near, as he would never find anything but pure chocolate to contain enough chocolate. What was even the appeal of it?

 

“What? If you don't want it, I'll just take it back. More for me.” Mello eventually commented, reaching towards the cup in front of Near to illustrate that he was not joking. That made Near pick up the cup, the warmth of the beverage seeping into his fingers as he held it up under his mouth. Mello gave it to him. He would appreciate that even if he found the smell alone to be revolting.

“Thank you. It was a nice gesture, but Mello should know by now that I'm not fond of sweets.” He said, keeping his glance glued to the marshmallow bobbing dangerously in the piping pool of brown liquid.

“Maybe I did, and I got it for you to spite you. Who knows.” Mello shrugged, breaking off a piece of the dark chocolate bar he'd brought yet again. This time it was not dropped into his cup though, instead he held the small piece out to Near, offering it to him. This was confusing. What drove him to share chocolate with him today? Perhaps it really was to spite him.

“Don't just look at it. You've not even tasted chocolate, right? Taste it. Maybe you'll like it.” He nudged it towards him again, clearly not taking 'no' for an answer today. As such, Near felt he couldn't well refuse the gesture, and took the piece from Mello's hand. For a short second his fingers brushed with the other's, and he took a mental note that Mello was very warm. He'd remember that.

 

It was clear enough that the right thing to do when offered something like this was to at least taste it, but for a good while Near just looked at it, feeling the texture under his fingers until Mello sighed in frustration.

“Just put it in your mouth. It won't kill you.” Plop. Another piece of chocolate dropped into Mello's cup, and he drank from it once more. Near was certain his blood stream was made up of ninety percent of the substance by now. One hardly saw Mello without chocolate in his close proximity.

Hesitantly, Near brought the chocolate to his lips and gave it a small lick, giving the taste very close consideration. Bitter. That was the word for it. Not sweet, or even pleasant. It was bitter.

“Properly. You didn't even taste it there.” Mello pushed, clearly watching him as he attempted to consume what he'd been given. Why was he so intent on having him eat this? Regardless, Near put the piece of chocolate in his mouth and allowed it to melt against his tongue. It was still bitter, but as it warmed up he could taste some sweetness in there. Not at all what he'd prefer to eat.

“How is it?” Mello soon asked, seeming more interested in Near's opinion on chocolate than was honestly necessary. He swallowed, bringing the hand that had just held the piece of chocolate up into his hair, twisting a snowy curl around the digit to give himself some grounding.

“I think, not even you are as bitter as that piece of dark chocolate.” He finally said, his lips curling up into an infuriatingly cheeky smile. Oh, he knew very well that he was being a little shit now, and that was his full intention.

 

Mello just huffed, picking up a die and chucking it lightly against Near's arm. That was literally the furthest he'd go in terms of harming him, and Near didn't mind one bit.

“Fuck you, Near. See if I'll ever bring you treats again. Build your stupid fort already, and give me that cup.”

Near held on to the cup though, swirling the liquid around for a moment. He'd keep it, if only to frustrate Mello further. It had been a gift after all, so he'd not part from it until it was undrinkable and he could return it to the kitchen without interrogation. For now, they stayed like that, Mello drinking his hot chocolate and watching as Near continued his construction of dice. Silent, but comfortable in each other's company, in spite of all that other's may conceive of them.  


End file.
